what nationality is your husband?

See that creature attacking Pierce's face? Yeah, that is his eyelash. Seriously. They are freakishly long.

I sometimes wonder if he ever has a clear view, or if those critters are always in the way. I also wonder if I should trim them, curl them or put mascara on them. All those people paying the big bucks for eyelash extensions and prescriptions for Latisse or Revitalash are probably super jealous. Can you sell human eyelashes on the black market?

At Pierce's last doctors appointment, the doctor asked me what nationality Morgan is. He asked because of Pierce's eyelashes. He said people from sandy countries have long eyelashes to protect their eyes from the sand. Nope, don't think that's the reason. Maybe he uses them to catch food that misses his mouth when he is shoveling EVERY scrap of food I put on his tray into his trap? or maybe it's to protect his eyes from the unusually high amounts of dust in our house (would getting our vents cleaned out help with that?). 

stretchy pants

the inevitable halloween post

Gwen looking scary

Laine the cute cheerleader

Pierce had 2 costumes

a pumpkin

and

Nacho Libre

beach bums

We spent almost a week in California (Del Mar to be exact). It was the girls first flight, first time to the beach, first time in a hotel, etc. It was a good trip. Vacation? For the girls, yes, for the parents, no. Morg commented that it was more of a suck-ation. Lots of work. Now we need a vacation from the vacation. BUT...the kids had fun, and that's all that really matters right? Right?

laine spent her time running out to the water, then running (screaming happily) away from the waves. she didn't like being in the ocean so much.

he wasn't so sure about the sand

he'd lay down and just move his hands across the sand

this is what she did the first time she saw the beach and ocean

pierce actually never tried to eat the sand...just seashells, rocks and seaweed

kindygarten

Today was Gwen's first day of Kindergarten. There isn't really much to say about it, except that I've been waiting for this day since Preschool ended in May. Today was the day. Gwen and the other kids played on the playground until the bell rang, then they were to line up against the wall. The teacher came out told the kids to say goodbye to their parents and were marched into the classroom which quickly resulted in panic and tears. Not from the kids, but from the moms. Everywhere I turned, there were moms with tissues. Bawling!  Again, I've talked about this, I don't get it. Do I not love my kids? Maybe they just love theirs a little bit more. Maybe theirs are far easier to love than my little Gwen. It is still a mystery to me.

OKAY, I must admit that this year I did cry. It was bad. Awful. Horrible. I just could not handle the fact that Kindergarten is SHORTER than preschool. Say what? Isn't it supposed to get progressively longer? Monday through thursday, class is 2.5 hours. Friday is a different story. Friday is a short day. EXCUSE ME? A short day? Because 2.5 hours isn't short enough. On Fridays, school gets out at 10:45. Don't get me started. I'm lucky if I'm dressed (and by dressed I mean pajamas) or eaten breakfast. But legend has it, in some areas, there is a mythical creature called "all day Kindergarten." Sort of like big foot and the loch ness monster, it is said to exist, however I have yet to see it. If there was one of those glorious kindergartens by me, Gwen would be enrolled ASAP. Sadly, (for me) that will not happen. Oh well.....

Here is Gwen and Laine before school. They were both super excited, until Laine found out she would not be joining Gwen in the festivities.

Gwen picked out her outfit. I couldn't convince her to wear other shoes. Those are "high heels" and she thinks they are awesome!

This is what Laine did (with my gel eyeliner) while Gwen was gone.

I can't do a post without mentioning Pierce. This is how I find him most mornings.

This is how he looks when he's about to eat.
(please ignore that disgrace of a shirt...I can't believe he was wearing that. It must have been the only thing that was clean.)

pierce, mr. p, p-buddy, p-man, etc.

sitting

eating

being drawn on by Laine

a pretty good day

Today I didn't do any of the dirty laundry piled in the hall. I didn't fold any of the clean laundry piled in the front room. I didn't do the dishes, clean the bathrooms, or make the beds. Today, I sat in my backyard, watched the girls run through the sprinklers, watched popsicles drip down their faces, necks and hands and listened to them laugh. Today, I sat in the backyard and read a book. I thoroughly enjoyed it. Until Laine announced she had to go potty and ran inside. Today, I scrubbed poop out of the carpet. Oh, the joys of motherhood!

thats what she said

more funny things our kids say

Morgan: "Laine, why are you hiding?"

Laine: "I'm hiding from the monsters in the backyard."

Morgan: "Those aren't bad monsters."

Laine: "Those monsters follow the prophet?"

laines turn

"You're a mean mom! I want a new mom!
Take me to Jail!"

out of the mouth of Gwen

"I have carsick allergies. If I don't take my dramabean, I'll varmit."

i want to be a mom

Tonight Gwen's uncle Matt was telling Gwen to stop growing up.
To stop getting bigger and taller.

Gwen told him that she wanted to grow big because she wants to be a mom.

I asked her why she wants to be a mom so bad.

"because then you can do whatever you what when your honey (meaning your husband) is gone"

So true Gwen. I always do whatever I want. 

For example, today I got to clean: 

poop off the floor once

pee off the floor twice

smashed watermelon off the kitchen floor

and a huge box of nails dumped out in the bedroom

just to name a few

Exactly what I want to do!

another prayer

Please bless me with patience this week so I won't duct tape my girls to their beds, or the chairs, or the walls.

But, if I don't get patience....at least bless me with some super extra strength duct tape.

Amen

this, I love

A Mother’s Prayer for Her Child By Tina Fey

bossypants

“First, Lord: No tattoos. May neither Chinese symbol for truth nor Winnie-the-Pooh holding the FSU logo stain her tender haunches.

May she be Beautiful but not Damaged, for it’s the Damage that draws the creepy soccer coach’s eye, not the Beauty.

When the Crystal Meth is offered, may she remember the parents who cut her grapes in half And stick with Beer.

Guide her, protect her when crossing the street, stepping onto boats, swimming in the ocean, swimming in pools, walking near pools, standing on the subway platform, crossing 86th Street, stepping off of boats, using mall restrooms, getting on and off escalators, driving on country roads while arguing, leaning on large windows, walking in parking lots, riding Ferris wheels, roller-coasters, log flumes, or anything called “Hell Drop,” “Tower of Torture,” or “The Death Spiral Rock ‘N Zero G Roll featuring Aerosmith,” and standing on any kind of balcony ever, anywhere, at any age.

Lead her away from Acting but not all the way to Finance. Something where she can make her own hours but still feel intellectually fulfilled and get outside sometimes And not have to wear high heels. What would that be, Lord? Architecture? Midwifery? Golf course design? I’m asking You, because if I knew, I’d be doing it, Youdammit.

May she play the Drums to the fiery rhythm of her Own Heart with the sinewy strength of her Own Arms, so she need Not Lie With Drummers.

Grant her a Rough Patch from twelve to seventeen.Let her draw horses and be interested in Barbies for much too long, For childhood is short – a Tiger Flower blooming Magenta for one day – And adulthood is long and dry-humping in cars will wait.

O Lord, break the Internet forever, that she may be spared the misspelled invective of her peers And the online marketing campaign for Rape Hostel V: Girls Just Wanna Get Stabbed.

And when she one day turns on me and calls me a Bitch in front of Hollister, Give me the strength, Lord, to yank her directly into a cab in front of her friends, For I will not have that Shit. I will not have it.

And should she choose to be a Mother one day, be my eyes, Lord, that I may see her, lying on a blanket on the floor at 4:50 A.M., all-at-once exhausted, bored, and in love with the little creature whose poop is leaking up its back. “My mother did this for me once,”she will realize as she cleans feces off her baby’s neck. “My mother did this for me.” And the delayed gratitude will wash over her as it does each generation and she will make a Mental Note to call me. And she will forget. But I’ll know, because I peeped it with Your God eyes.

Amen.”

-Tina Fey

Happy Mothers Day eveyone, and if I knew I wouldn't sit and bawl my head off, I'd write a thoughtful, loving post on my own mom, but I don't like to cry, and so I won't. Love you mom. Thanks for wiping poop off of my neck, and doing the same for my kids (or wiping poop off your shoes and out of your closet). Sorry I broke the tattoo part of the thing above. I'm a bad dog. I don't tell you thank you enough for all you do. Thanks for being my mom.

easter again

Cute girls. Normal picture.

Love him.

bad idea

Real Simple, I usually love you.

But this is just wrong!

Dryer Lint as Modeling Dough

More like "pube dough"

I don't think I'd want my kids playing with this.

cause i don't yike that woim!

I wish

The other morning I was putting my make-up on (foundation or concealer I think) when Gwen walked in. Here was our conversation.

Gwen: What's that?
me: Make-up
Gwen: Does that make your stretch marks go away?
me: (laughing) I wish. Where did you hear about that?
Gwen: A TV commercial. It said it would make your stretch marks disappear. Do you have stretch marks on your face mom (I think she was thinking of wrinkles)?
me: I hope not.
Gwen: Mom, you're old.
me: Yep.

it's time

See this girl? Well, lately she's decided that when it time to poop, it's time to hide (usually in Gwen's closet). After hiding and pooping, she then decides that the poop must get out of her diaper, and that her hands are the best method. Because of this pooping routine, I think it's time to potty train. Problem is, I don't know how to do it. Yup, Gwen is potty trained, but she pretty much decided one day that she didn't like diapers, and that was that. There was no need for bribes or celebrations (although we gave her both of those anyway), she just did it. No problems. So the question is, How exactly do you potty train a toddler?

pobrecito

For you non spanish speakers that means poor little thing

Having sick kids is never fun.

Having a sick baby is not fun, but also scary. You never know when it really serious, or just a minor cold. With all of this RSV stuff going around, you have to be careful you know.

So when your two year old has sleeves caked in dry boogers and snot going from her nose up to her forehead (from using those sleeves to wipe her nose), you do all you can to keep that 2 year old away from the 7 week old. 

Unfortunately, that's near impossible. When she's not trying to sit or lay on him, she's trying to smother and kiss him. And so the snot transfer happens.

Pierce is sick. He has a rough cough. Poor kid. I feel so bad for him. After he coughs he makes these pitiful moans and whimpers. Yeah, Laine is sick too, but I don't feel that bad for her. She still manages to wreak havoc.

birthdays

We had 2 birthdays within 5 days here at our house.

Laine turned 2 on the 13th

Gwen turned 5 on the 18th

and while we're at it...Pierce was 5 weeks on the 17th.

(and he rolled over for the first time today)

some photos of the babe

up to here

His name is Pierce. Pierce Markus Stanley. It was a tough decision. First we couldn't decide on the name, then we couldn't decide on the spelling (pierce, piers, etc.), then it was the middle name. It almost came down to a coin toss (with a Morgan Dollar). I didn't like the idea, and when the coin toss was done, I still wasn't happy with it. Anyway, we finally decided and now I hope I don't regret it.

He's a great baby. Laine on the other hand is not. Gwen is fine. I don't think I have hated hearing "mom, mommy, momma" so much in my entire life.

it's a baby

We got to the hospital around 8am. Dilated to a 2. The pitocin was started at 9. Doctor came and broke my water (the most disgusting feeling ever). Contractions started and became stronger. Got the epidural (most painful epidural of the 3...probably the most painful part of the entire labor and delivery). Epidural slowed contractions. Baby's heartbeat dips with each contraction. Nurse seems worried. Gives me oxygen. Things level out. Still progressing. 2:30pm dilated to a 5. Nurse doesn't think it will be long. Starts preparing for delivery.  3:45 completely dilated. Nurse goes to call doc. Doctor doesn't come for 45 minutes. She finally comes. Morg tells doctor he doesn't want to watch...but will cut the cord. My mom does want to watch. Doctor asks my dad if he wants to stay. He gets up and leaves quickly. Doctor checks me and finds out baby is facing up so she rotates him. I hear the doctor say "oh my gosh." Baby immediately slides down...faster than the doctor expects. They try to call another nurse in, but everyone is busy. The doc and nurse decide to go ahead. I push once....head is out. I push again...baby is out. Baby is screaming and pink. Good signs. He's wrapped in the cord a few times, but no problems. Doctor asks if I want to see the placenta. I say no. She shows me anyway. Shows me everything. Explains how is "works." Gross but interesting. He weighs 7 lbs. 3 oz. 20.5 inches. Born at 4:25. He has more hair than the girls ever did. And black. Baby still has no name.

a little blurry, but don't you love Laine's face?

scary dream

Have your kids ever had a scary dream so disturbing that it gave you the creeps? Gwen did the other night. She came into our room in the middle of the night crying saying she had had a scary dream.

She said that in her dream, Morg and I were watching T.V. while the girl slept. A stranger came into our house, cut off Gwen and Laine's fingers and cut our their hearts. Then he hid them in the master bathroom behind the toilet. I then went into the bathroom and found the fingers and hearts and ran to check on the girls and that they were dead. Gwen said that in the dream, Morg and I were so sad that our tears were falling on Gwen's face.

We let her crawl into our bed but not before she made me go check on Laine to make sure she was okay.

She's been scared to go to sleep ever since. I don't blame her. I wouldn't want to have that dream either. She's been worried about strangers coming into our house. Morg has tried to reassure her that he's big and strong and owns lots of guns and that's he'd kill anyone who tried to come into our house or tried to hurt her. She doesn't understand and is just scared. Poor girl.